[ He'll relieve you of your shirt then, hands lingering over your skin as he parts the folds of your shirt. He'll catch your hands and move off of you, draw you up and sit on that bed so that he can guide you over him as he strips you down to just warm skin over bone.
And then he'll smile at you like you're the only thing that could ever matter, the only thing he could ever see as he guides your hands over him and goes through the motions of stripping himself down.
It's always been like this, whenever you both make love: push, pull, meet in the middle, because the middle-ground is where you both can lose yourselves to each other.
When you're both naked over those sheets he'll run his fingers up your sides, over your shoulders and up to fist in your hair to draw your mouth back to his. ]
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And then he'll smile at you like you're the only thing that could ever matter, the only thing he could ever see as he guides your hands over him and goes through the motions of stripping himself down.
It's always been like this, whenever you both make love: push, pull, meet in the middle, because the middle-ground is where you both can lose yourselves to each other.
When you're both naked over those sheets he'll run his fingers up your sides, over your shoulders and up to fist in your hair to draw your mouth back to his. ]